Angel of the Victorious People
by Poseidonschild
Summary: Hecate smiled. "Who better than you Nico, for a guardian angel? Does your name not mean Angel of the Victorious People?" Nico has seen the upmost worst of the world and humanity. He thought his life was starting to look up when he's suddenly dragged into a world of magic by a godly cousin. His quest - Protect Harry Potter.
1. Shadows

Second Draft

The street was dark, the dim lamps that lined the sidewalk hardly breaking through nights thick shadows. In places the darkness was so dense that it seemed to be solid and tangible. A row of town homes stood at attention depressingly, a park was guarded by poorly manicured oaks, and a black river flowed between them, a division line and each side was waiting for the other to cross. A cat howled from somewhere in the darkness and the wind brushed against the leaves making them shift uneasily. The town homes seemed to be holding their breath while the oaks creaked and groaned as if they were trying to steady a racing heart. A man stared out the window of his home for once feeling no desire to escape outside. For once the outside was far less appealing than the inside of his dreary mansion. He rested his hands on the window sill wondering at the strange atmosphere. It was like the world had stopped and was waiting. What was it that it was waiting for?

Nico blinked rapidly as he stepped out of the darkness to find himself in a place that was only slightly brighter than the shadows of which he had just walked out of. Slowly he turned around on his heel, his hand on the pommel of his sword, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow searching for anything unusual. This was most certainly not where he had been trying to go. He frowned thinking perhaps he had made some mistake, but he couldn't quite convince himself of it. He rarely got lost anymore when he shadow traveled, and even then it was typically when he was trying to travel long distance. No, however he ended up here it was not of his doing, someone wanted him here. The question was who?

"Sorry to have interfered with your shadow traveling."

Nico wasted no time drawing his sword and turning to face his possible attacker. He was only slightly surprised to see someone he knew and was familiar with rather than an enemy. He mentally scowled the enemy bit was debatable actually. They were more or less acquaintances who had called a truce. Black wavy hair fell down the woman's back in a messy braid to end a the waist. Black jeans and black huntress boots were paired with a dark amethyst shirt and a black jacket. All of it was fitted to show off the woman's figure in the best way. Violet eyes accented by thick black eyeliner and silver and purple eye shadow stared out of a pale and angular face. The woman stood tall and regally, confident in her presence. Nico involuntarily shivered. Of all the gods and goddesses he had to draw Her attention.

"Lady Hecate," Nico said bowing in respect while quickly lowering his sword. He had spoken to her only twice when he was visiting his father and she had been there playing attendant to Persephone, his step-mother, and seeing to her Underworld duties. They had discussed in great depth the art of necromancy and the handling of malignant ghosts, but while Nico had found the subjects interesting he always found it hard to forget that she was perhaps one of the most, if not the most, powerful of the goddesses. Her sphere of influence was vast and Nico tried not to imagine what she could do if she wanted to. He almost wished that Percy hadn't asked for forgivness for the gods and goddesses who had sided with the Titans, Hecate would have been stripped of her powers then, or at least most of them.

"I have a rather urgent problem that I need your help with," she began looking down at him with eyes that were like Athena's -cold, calculating. Nico straightened and returned his sword to its sheath at his hip ueasily. "Normally I wouldn't entrust a son of Hades with this, but your particular talents could be quite useful. From our brief conversations I have come to the conclusion that you are not like most of your elder siblings. Am I making a mistake in believing such a thing, Nico di Angelo?"

"I certainly don't think so, my lady," Nico responded respectfully mentally supressing the urge to defend himself against the stereotypical reaction people had in relation to his parentage. "I hope to never fallow that path."

Hecate smirked. "I doubt it's avoidable, but I hope yours is more heroic."

"Thank you," he replied fighting back a glare.

"As you know my children are not the only one's capable of using magic," Hecate commenced. Nico nodded that he understood. He had met several witches and wizards during his wanderings in the underworld. He had found them fascinating. "My children attend Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, but my legacies, my children's descendants, live in a world in which they created."

Nico frowned, "You mean like another dimension?"

Hecate chuckled, "The only one with the power to create dimensions is Chaos. No, it works much like our mythical world. Their communities are hidden away by magic so that only those of the wizarding realm can see it. Much like Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, though the magic of my descendants isn't as powerful. A demigod could see their world very easily. Unlike demigods however, they live almost exclusively in their world and are very ignorant and naïve of their muggle peers."

"Muggle?" Nico asked confused.

"Non-magic mortal," she explained.

Nico looked beffuddled, "Am I a muggle?"

"No," Hecate smiled. "Have you ever heard of Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Nico's expression hardened. "Yes," He clipped out.

Hecate chuckled, "Yes Hades is very vocal about those he feels have slighted of insulted him in some way. I'm sure Thantos has spoken of him as well."

"No one appreciates being mocked," Nico scowled.

"No, no they don't," Hecate agreed a sly smile on her face. She waved her hand in the air as if brushing away a thought. "Normally I wouldn't care, in fact normally I would find great amusement in someone who outsmarted my cousins. However, the man has gone to far!" Nico unconciously took a step back. Until now the Goddess had been more or less passive and easy going, but the anger flashing through her eyes was beautifully frightening. Her eyes seemed to glitter like an ameythst stone reflecting the moonlight with a silvery glint and her sculpted features seemed harden. Her face was fascinating in its twisted anger. Nico shivered as she glared down at him, the coldness that he sensed existed inside of her seemed to permeate the air around them. Nico felt the fear rise up inside him and his hand that rested upon his sword tightened its grip on the pommel. "Nobody, attacks my children and gets away with it!"

Nico bit his lip trying to tramp down his rising fear. Mortals for the most part went through life largely unnoticed by the gods, with the exception of their love interests. More often than not those interests are fleeting and sometimes quickly forgotten. The children of the gods were another matter entirely. The gods may not be the best parents in the world -most of them could learn a thing or two from those Parental Guide Books - and they were forbidden to aid their children in most ways, but that didn't stop them completely. The gods, horrible parents that they are, actually do care for their children, though they show it in some strange ways. The quickest way to attract the attention of a god or goddess - attack one of their children, however Nico would never suggest doing so - well maybe if it was one of the Aphrodite children - no not even then. If your really, really lucky, you'll walk away from the meeting cursed with something like 'you will never be able to grow a plant again', or 'you will suffer a bad hair day for the rest of your life'. If your unlucky you may end up like Arachne or Medusa, forever cursed to walk in shame for your arrogance. The most likely scenario, the most unlucky outcome, they send someone to kill you and you suffer in the fields of punishment. Sounds like Riddle drew option number three out of the magic hat and signed his own death warrant in blood. Oops.

"There is a prophecy predicting his death, but it's vague and contains too big a loop hole for me to willingly hang my hat, sit back, and wait," she scowled. Hecate's temper seemed to have abadated, but Nico wasn't certain he like her irritated either. "It's just as likely that the one who is supposed to kill him dies instead," she explained.

"If there is a prophecy then we aren't allowed to interfere," Nico pointed out cautiously.

Hecate nodded, "Normally that's the case. However a mortal by the name of Sybil Trelawney made the prophecy. A mortal prophecy is not as solid as one made through The Oracle," Hecate clarified. "The Oracle of Delphi speaks directly with the fates, but the mortals get their information second-hand so to speak. So the prophecy comes out watered down. As if it's written in sand rather than stone."

"Similar to what happens when you play telephone," Nico murmured. Hecate tilted her head to look at him quizzically. "Never mind."

"Anyway, because the prophecy was mortal made it can be manipulated. We are able to hedge our bets, choose our hero and our villain, "Hecate explained. "Harry Potter, the boy of the prophecy, is currently only fifteen years of age, but Tom has already returned to flesh and blood. Since Harry turned elven Tom has tried at least thrice to kill the boy. Now that he is very much alive we are not interested in waiting to see if he will succeed if given a fourth chance. That's where you come in. The Gods are officially giving Harry Potter a bodyguard. You will be attending Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. You need to befriend Harry, become one of those that he trusts and see to it that he doesn't do anything too stupid. This is his journey, his quest, and you know how they work. Your there purely to keep him alive until the time is right. You cannot interfere with his path."

"You don't want a bodyguard, you want me to be his guardian angel," Nico said with disgust.

Hecat smiled. "Who better than you Nico, for a guardian angel? Does your name not mean Angel of the Victorious People?"

Nico stared at the Goddess. No, he had not known that. He quickly swallowed back a flood of emotion and looked away into the darkness of the park. His mother, he knew, had been the one to chose his name. Did she know what 'Nico' meant? Something inside him, the remenants of a forgotten memory, told him that yes she had. Had she chosen the name Nico like Percy's mother had chosen the name Perseus? Had she named him in the hopes that his name would bring him luck, that he would be more than his heritage?

Hecate seemed to read his mind and spoke, "Many fear your father, because of his close connection with death. They forget that he is so much more than just the god of hell, but also the god of what people call heaven. He is the protector of the dead, defender of their last rights. There is so much good that exists inside your father, Nico, if you can only get past the pain that he cloaks himself in to see it. Your mother saw the good Nico. Its why he loved her, why he was able to let down the walls he built up. He was never as carefree as your uncle, but before when he first burst from Kronos's stomach, the bitterness was just a small seed, the anger barely more a passing emotion. Stop seeing yourself as the child of Hell Nico and try to look at yourself as the child of a god who once loved and has forgotten how. You can either walk the same path as your father and let all the hurt and pain eat at you until all that is seemingly left is bitter young man or you can push it aside, learn to forgive, and allow yourself to experience the beauty of life and love. Soon Nico you will have to make a choice."

Nico nodded, but his gaze was studying the cracks in the concrete. He wasn't willing to speak for fear that he would say more than he intended and he wasn't certain what that more would be, he doubted that it would be kind however.

Hecate was quiet for a moment but when she spoke again it to change the subject and Nico sighed in relief. The goddess explained the history of Harry Potter and the Golden Trio. She also explained that Tom Riddle had taken to calling himself Voldemort - a which point Nico gave her an odd look - and how his followers were called death-eaters - at this Nico laughed outright. No wonder Thanatos hated the guy.

"Will you help me, us?" She asked when she was finished.

Nico scoffed, "As if I have a choice. What I don't understand is why one of your children aren't taking care of this. Wouldn't Lou Ellen be a better choice?"

"I don't really trust my children to keep their tempers in check when they finally meet Tom," Hecate sighed. "My fault, I'm afraid. Most of my children are diagnosed with bipolar, though that isn't what is wrong with them. They are simply reflecting my status as a triple deity. The mood swings are horrendous," she scowled.

"Well then…" Nico muttered waiving his hand in the air in a motion that encouraged her to get on with the details of his quest.

"You start school on the first of September which is in two days," she explained. "Until then you'll be staying in the mansion across the street - don't bother looking, it's hidden by the mist, only I can see it - and you will be there with Harry Potter and a group called the Order of the Phoenix."

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?" Nico interrupted.

Hecate sighed irritably, "it's a group dedicated to opposing Lord Voldemort. Not all of the Wizarding world is convinced that he has returned and the Ministry of Magic is working overtime at keeping it that way by slandering both Dumbledore and Harry's name in the newspaper. The minister is more interested in the upcoming elections rather than believing a fifteen year old boy and a school headmaster no matter how powerful the man is. For Elysium's sake, there was a mass break-out at Azkaban Prison and not a single word of mention even entered the news paper."

Nico stared at the goddess in amusement. "Do they think that by ignoring Tom, he'll go away?"

"Certainly seems so, doesn't it?" she laughed.

There was a moment where they both pondered what had been said. "Is that everything?" Nico asked.

"Yes...NO. There is more," she said pulling out a letter and handing it to him. "Give this to Professor Dumbledore. He is aware of our existance and the letter explains what you are doing here. There should be enough proof in that letter for him to believe you. If he doesn't call me and I'll beat the memories back into his thick head," the Goddess growled.

"An ex?" Nico guessed.

She glared at him and Nico shrunk under the gaze. "If you feel that you must, you may tell Harry, Ron and Hermione of your situation, but only if you must. Otherwise, keep it to your self."

"I understand," Nico said weakly, still feeling the effects of her glare.

"Good, then it's time I took you inside," she said and suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

Across the street the man who had been gazing out the window warily backed away from it. Something about the whole exchange bothered him. They had both appeared out of nowhere and he was fairly certain that it hadn't been apparition he had seen. No, the shadows had seemed to become thicker just before they had arrived and then when they thinned out again there was a boy and a woman walking towards him. Were they death eaters? They had been dressed seemingly in all black. It couldn't be a coincidence that they had just appeared on this street of all streets, to talk for the better part of an hour. But they hadn't even looked toward the house his mind told him. He bit his lip. He would have to tell the others. Maybe they could make more since of it.


	2. Unexpected Visitor

Flames danced in the hearth flickering shadows across the room, rippling across the dark, smooth worn, rough table; it bade the dead wood to come alive, inviting it to come and dance. The bricks of the hearth were blackened with years worth of soot stain, having not been cleaned for nearly a decade until recently. Across from the hearth, on the other side of the room stood an equally stained (though you could hardly tell) black iron wood stove. A deep sink on the same wall was surrounded by plenty of counter space to make any cook happy stood near the stove on the same wall and swinging around the corner. A chimney fan was fashioned above the stove which was currently allowing the smoke from the sizzling meat to escape.

A boy with be speckled green eyes and untidy black hair couldn't help but glance continuously at the stove where a plump woman with red hair stood stirring a pot that was to become stew. The boys mouth watered and he hoped that dinner would be ready soon.

"Harry? Harry?"

The green eyed boy looked away from the stove to the boy sitting across from him. He was tall and gangly with shaggy red hair and a rather large nose that was dusted with freckles along with his cheeks. "Sorry?"

"I asked if you if there was anything you wanted me to get you when we're in Diagon Alley on Wednesday?" The boy asked.

"Thanks Ron, ill think about it," Harry assured his friend cheerfully, hoping he successfully hid his lack of enthusiasm. He wasn't looking forward to Wednesday. While everyone else got to go and enjoy the famous wizarding street and look at all the new Zonkos products or take a peak at the newest broom model, he would be stuck in a room with the Head of the Department for Misuse of Magic Office. The thought was depressing made even more so by the fact that he was afraid they would snap his wand whether or not he was innocent. He had heard his best friend Hermione rant about how they didn't have a case and couldn't just snap his wand and expell him from school. Harry wasn't so certain that mattered. He might have believed her had she not told him that the Ministry of Magic was leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet to make him out to be crazy. Now, he was pretty certain the ministry would go to any lengths to see to it he was discredited. It hadn't been Harry's experience to find the ministry to be warm, helpful, understanding, truthful, or judicious. After all Buckbeak, the hippogriff, hadn't been given a fair appeal trial and most of the judges at his first court hearing had been bought or threatened into a guilty verdict, then there was the matter of Sirius; sentenced to Azkaban without a trial and then issued the Kiss without the ministry checking or verifying his story and of course there was Bartimous Crouch Jr. at the Tournament last year. He had been the only one at Hogwarts to give Harry's story that the evil Lord Voldemort was back any credit, and the ministry had issued the Kiss so swiftly that no one had anytime to stop it - not that Crouch didn't deserve it; but Harry was astounded at the lack of justice the wizarding ministry was truly interested in.

"Sirius? Are you alright?"

Harry looked up from watching the flames play with the wood table to look at Arthur Weasley, the man who had spoken, and then followed his gaze to the door where Sirius was standing. He was standing on the threshold, hands in his pocket, and an unusually very serious expression on his face.

"I'm fine," Sirius assured everyone as he made his way to the table and sat down. "I was just checking the street." He looked at Harry when he said this, his expression worried.

"Something's wrong," A man with a magical eye and pock-marked face noted.

"No, no," Sirius waved him off. "At least I don't think so."

"So why do you look so worried?" Asked a shaggy haired man with patched clothing.

"Two people showed up in the street," Sirius began, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "They were wearing muggle clothing. One looked to be about Harry's age and the other was a woman."

"Sounds like two people who just happened to be walking down the road together," the man with the shaggy hair noted.

"Constant Vigilance!" shouted the pock-marked man as his magical eye whirled in it's socket with a whiz.

Sirius snorted, "they didn't walk anywhere. They appeared in the middle of the street separately and then left the same way they appeared, this time together."

"So they apparated," observed the pock-marked man.

"No, Moody," Sirius snapped. "Whatever they did, it was not apparition. It was like they melted out of and back into the shadows- like the shadows were spitting them out an then swallowing them up." Sirius looked uneasy as he explained this.

"I have never heard of anything like that before," said a bushy haired girl sitting next to Ron. "I read all about different modes of travel in Magical Transport Defined. It talks all about the different kinds of transportation and how to achieve it. There was nothing in there about using shadows."

"This wouldn't have been in that book, Hermione," the shaggy haired man said softly. "What Sirius is describing is a very advanced and very dark form of magic. It's called Umbrakenisis. Only a handful of dark wizards have ever accomplished the art. Though many have tried. Some say it is a an inherited talent, that it's not something you can learn, but are born with."

"Are you telling me a boy and young woman, whom we apparently don't know, managed to perform umbrakenisis? The most advanced dark magic there is? And at such a difficult level as well?" Moody growled testily completely ignoring the explanation being given. It was clear the man didn't believe Sirius for a moment.

Sirius opened his mouth to respond but didn't get the chance to give his defense. A shout filled the room as a boy fell out of the ceiling and onto the table. Everyone fumbled out of their seats; Ron tumbling out of his when it flipped over. They held their wands out as they slowly moved away. Harry studied the boy closely as he groaned and rolled onto his side grasping at his back with his hand. The boy had black hair and pale skin that was almost chalky. He wore black pants that were ripped in several places, worn out and scuffed up combat boots, a black shirt, and most strangely of all, a brown vintage aviator jacket right out of a 1940's film. The boy pushed himself up off the table and then glared at the ceiling. He mumbled something that sound like 'was that necessary?' but Harry couldn't be sure. He turned to move off the table when he stiffened and then dove off and the next thing Harry knew there was a bag lying where the boy had been standing and said boy was now yelling at the ceiling.

"Are you trying to send me to my father?" He shouted. "What in HADES did I ever do to you?!"

There was grumble of thunder outside and then the boy waved his arm at the ceiling and then mumbled under his breath.

"Who are you, boy?" Moody barked in his gruff voice.

The boy turned slowly toward Moody, an impassive expression on his face. Harry, standing next to Moody, noticed that his eyes, which he had expected to be a rich brown, were nearly black -and they were cold.

"Nico di Angelo," the boy said tilting his head off to the side and giving Moody an appraising perusal. Then seeming uninterested he turned back to the table, up righted Ron's seat and sat down. "This is HQ for the Order of the Phoenix, correct?"

He spoke with little emotion, though Harry thought he detected something like resignation on his voice. Nico pulled a pocket knife out of his pants and began picking at his nails. In the few movies Harry had been able to see in his life time he had thought this move to be rather cliché and almost funny, but here in reality, it was far more disconcerting watching how comfortable the boy was with a blade.

The rest of the room shared a look and then refocused on the boy. "Why do you want to know?" growled Moody with a glare.

The boy set aside his pocket knife and reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a thick envelope. "I'm looking for an Albus Dumbledore. I was told that I can find him here," Nico said putting the letter on the table and picking up his knife again.

"I'm Professor Dumbledore," the shaggy haired man announced stepping forward.

Nico glanced over at the man and then went back to concentrating on his knife. "I'm not that stupid. First off, your patched up clothing says your not, secondly I just can't picture you being my cousins type," Nico smirked.

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and Nico let out a slight chuckle. "What do you want with Dumbledore?" Moody demanded gruffly.

"That is between Dumbledore, my cousin, and me," Nico said moving onto cleaning the nails on his other hand. "If he isn't here, I would really appreciate being told where he is so that I can find him and deliver this," he said motioning toward the envelope with nonchalance, as though he really was in no hurry to deliver it.

"Remus," Moody said adressing the man with the shaggy hair. "Why don't you go floo Albus?" Remus hesitated a moment and then hurried out of the room. "As for you boy…"

"Nico," the 'boy' interrupted.

"As for you boy, you aren't going anywhere until I find out how you got in here," Moody snarled at him placing his hands on the table and leaning over it.

Harry who had been on the receiving end of Moody's glare a few times knew what Nico was facing. To his surprise, however, Nico seemed unaffected by the force of Moody's stare. He slipped his knife back into his pocket, leaned forward onto the table and began twiddling his thumbs, his foot tapping out a rhythm under the table.

"Sirius seems to think you can perform Umbrakenisis," Moody continued unperturbed by the boys lack of reaction or speech.

"What I am or am not capable of is none of your concern," Nico hissed. "If your concerned with others getting in the way I did, don't be. I'm the only one who could have done it."

Moody slapped his hand on the table. "You just appear on our street with a woman and then fall into our home from the ceiling. I don't trust and I am not allowing you to go anywhere until I get some answers," Moody snapped.

Nico shrugged, "Intimidation isn't going to work. As for your answers, I'm not saying anything until Dumbledore shows up."

"Which I have," a man said and Harry looked toward the doorway to see a man in purple robes and a long white beard and hair standing there with Remus directly behind him. "You must be Nico di Angelo," Dumbledore observed as he glided into the room.

Nico looked Dumbledore as he approached and Harry could see his mind appraising him as he tried to decide if this really was Dumbledore. "A friend of your's sent me," Nico said handing over the envelope.

Dumbledore gave the boy a confused look before turning to the envelope. His face paled when he flipped over the letter and saw the wax seal. "What is your relation to her?"

"A second cousin," Nico explained. "She plays companion to my step-mother and is very helpful to my father."

If it was possible Harry was certain that Dumbledore's face paled even more so. "I would like a word with you in private if you don't mind," Dumbledore said and then turned to the plump woman at the stove who had been oddly quiet. "Molly, would you be so kind as to set-up an extra bed. I have a feeling Nico will be staying with us for the long term," he said looking toward Nico for confirmation.

"Of course, Professor," Molly said glancing nervously at Nico. "Ginny dear," she motioned to her red haired daughter who had been standing next to Hermione.

Nico stood up from his spot at the table and reached out to pick up his bag all with a fluid motion. His walk was lazy, but not lacking in confidence. He seemed unconcerned with the world around him and unhurried by the tension in the room.

Everyone stood silently after they left. Glancing at each other it became clear that no one really knew what to say. "I don't like him," Moody announced, breaking the uneasy silence.

"There's something very odd about him that is for certain," Remus said looking at the doorway.

"Odd? The boy practically screamed evil," Sirius yelled. "The boy's fourteen years old and he can perform umbrakenisis."

"Maybe there is some truth to what Remus said, about umbrakenisis being an inheriteted talent rather than a learned one," Arthur said. Silence reined once again and slowly the rooms occupants began to sit down once again at the table. Harry starred at the door uncertainly. He didn't know what to think of the new arrival or Dumbledore's reaction to him. He didn't think Nico di Angelo was necessarily evil, but he also didn't think he was all together good. Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione and silently they all agreed - the mystery of Nico had to be solved.


	3. Interrogations

Nico studied the Professor carefully as he followed the man down the hall and into a private room. He was tall, in a gangly sort of way, his white hair was so long that he had to tuck it inside his belt, his beard included, he wore half moon spectacles and purple robes decorated in stars and moons. The man led him into what looked like a drawing room and motioned toward a couch for Nico to sit in.

"I am not certain how I feel about having a son of Hades in the Order," Dumbledore began. "So please explain to me why Hecate chose you to help. Why not send one of her own children?"

"Am I the first Demigod you've met?" Nico asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "That I know of anyway."

Nico looked around the room taking a moment to put his thoughts in order. The room had been dusted recently, but that was the only sign that it was being tended to. Fabrics were faded and frade and little tears in the side of the couch and curtains suggested that a small animal had lived in here at one point. An old grandfather clock was stuck on three twenty-eight its pendulum stuck out to the side slightly. Nico also noticed subtler things, like how the room seemed to be devoid of artifacts but the quality of décor and turn of the century furniture spoke of wealth. Nico wondered if the house had been looted during the years of it's abandonment.

"Demigods take on the qualities of their parents strongest attributes," Nico began explaining. "Hecate's children have very sudden and quick mood swings. She couldn't trust them to keep their cool if they ever ran into Voldemort, not after what he did to their brother."

"He attacked one of her children?" Dumbledore asked, though clearly not surprised. Voldemort would attack anything that was a threat to his power or life.

"If you bothered to read the letter," Nico grumbled in annoyance.

Dumbledore apparently took the hint. He was either very curious as to what was in the letter or he was unwilling to unleash the Hades temper by ignoring Nico's agitation. The room was silent and Nico wandered around examining different trinkets that had been left behind in the room. A tapestry on the wall caught his attention and he wandered over to it. A tree grew up it's center and upon each branch was a picture and a name. It was a family tree Nico realized and then he quickly turned away. His only family was Hazel and because of his father's unwillingness to speak of his mother, Nico knew nothing about his maternal side of the family. His only relations were on the Godly side and, large though it was, he cared only for a handful of them.

"This says your talents could be useful in destroying Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked as he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket.

"That's what I've been told," Nico shrugged.

"I am not fond of the idea of having a child being in the Order," Dumbledore said.

"I'm eighty-five years old according to by birth certificate," Nico qualified.

That seemed to surprise Dumbledore, "You are?"

"Yes, I was born during the Second World War," Nico growled. He didn't want to talk about his birth nor how he came to be fifteen years old eighty years later.

Again Dumbledore seemed to take the hint. "Well, despite that, I'm afraid I cannot allow you into the order," Dumbledore sighed. Seeing the protest on the Nico's face he held a hand to forestall him. "You do not look eighty Nico, you look like a child. Having you in the Order would raise questions that cannot be answered. However you are welcome to stay here and I will be sure to organize things so that you are around Harry as often as possible."

Nico thought it over for a moment before nodding his agreement. He wasn't thrilled with the situation, but Dumbledore was right. Joining the order would be an invitation for questions none of which could be answered easily.

"I suppose we should take you back to the kitchen and assure them that you are not working for Voldemort," Dumbledore announced and led the way back down into the basement kitchen. There was something familiar about the kitchen to Nico, something comfortable and inviting despite its shabby and worn appearance. It was also wrong somehow. It was very similair to the feeling he got when he entered his cabin, and though nothing appeared to have been moved or misplaced, he could sense that the room was different in some way. A memory danced at the fringes of his mind, begging to be remembered, but the harder he tried to recall the further away it got.

An angry voice drew Nico out of his thoughts and into the present. He was in the Kitchen and a man with a pock-marked face and a fake eyeball that seemed to have a life of it's own was standing before Professor Dumbledore a suspicious look in his eye as he gazed at Nico.

"This is Nico di Angelo," Dumbledore announced placing a hand on Nico's shoulder. "As I am sure he has already informed you."

"Yes, but what is he doing here?" The man with the pock-marked face demanded. "And more importantly how did he get in?"

"Nico, this is Alastor Moody, an Auror for the Ministry," Dumbledore introduced. "Unfortunately with a point. Harry, would you please show Nico where he will be staying while he is here. I need to have a word with those who are in the Order, so for those of you are not privy to its discusions please leave," he asked politely.

Nico glared at Dumbledore in warning before following the boy with black hair and glasses out of the room. He could feel the curious stares of the rest of the group as they made their way up the stairs to the third story and the second room on the right.

"You get that bed there," harry pointed out.

"Thanks," Nico muttered as he dropped his things onto the bed.

"Why are you here?" the tall boy with red hair asked.

"Ron!" a girl with puffy brown hair and large front teeth cried. "Don't mind him. I'm Hermione Granger. The one with no manners is Ronald Weasly."

"Oh, come of it Hermione," Ron argued. "He just appears out of nowhere in a house that was supposed to be inpenetrable."

"That's no reason to be so rude, especially since Dumbledore has made it clear that he is welcome here," Hermione disagreed. Nico watched them in amusement stongly reminded of his cousin and his girlfriend before they began dating. Actually it reminded him of them now, and if this was truly a like scenario, then true to form, Hermione would no doubt win.

"Hey, don't mind them, they're always bickering," said a boy with red hair and freckles spattered across his face. He looked remarkably like Ron, except he was shorter and more robust where Ron was lanky. He had a look-a-like standing behind him. "I'm Gred and this is Forge," he introduced.

"Fred, George," Nico acknowledged. He had to bite back a smile at their dumbfounded expressions. Apparently no one had ever caught the joke until now.

"Did he?'

"I think he did?"

"But how forge?"

"I don't know Gred."

"I do." Nico smirked interrupting their banter. "If you ever get around to asking, I'll happily tell you."

"How?" they chorused together.

"I have cousins who are brothers and look so much alike they are often mistaken for twins," Nico shrugged. "They play that joke on all the newbies."

"So you all go to school together?" a girl with red hair asked.

"Let me guess," Nico said apprehensively. "Another Weasley?"

The girl blushed slightly, a curse of the red hair genetics, but she didn't back down, instead her head seemed to be lifted just a little higher. "This is our sister Ginny," Fred announced.

"She's the baby of the family," George teased.

"Little miss never-do-wrong," Fred grinned adding his two cents. Ginny's blush darkened and she reached out to smack her brothers, missing one and catching the other on the arm.

"So where are you from?" Harry asked as the twins continued their teasing.

"The states, mostly New York and California," Nico answered.

"What brings you to the U.K.?" Hermione asked, being drawn out of her argument with Ron by the prosepect of learning something.

"My cousin wants me here," Nico shrugged.

"But why does she want you here?" Hermione pushed. "and why your cousin? Why not your mom or your dad?"

Nico snorted as he tried to picture Hades in the role of caring father and failing. "Look my family isn't really well normal when it comes to the textbook definition of the word. My mom past away a long time ago and my dad doesn't exactly get the 'Coolest Dad' or 'Number One Dad' or 'Most Loving Dad' awards. As to why my cousin is the one who sent me here, well, when an elder in my family tells you to do something you just do it. Unless your my cousin Percy and you argue it out and some how come out unscathed, but that's beside the ppoint."

"What do you mean unscathed?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Let's just say that I'd rather face Voldemort than an angry family member," Nico mumbled. He turned back to his bag on the bed and began rifling through it, curious to see what had been packed for him. There was a bag full of gold coins - the Ancient Greek currency drachmas - which he quickly reclosed and stuffed at the bottom of his bag before anyone else could see it. There was a change of clothes and Hecate had apparently taken the liberty of packing him something for a nice occasion. Nico hoped he would never have to use them. He found another bag this one filled with some other kind of coin. "Umm what in Hades are these?"

Hermione, ever curious, peeked over his shoulder to take a look. "That's wizarding money, didn't you know that?"

Nico mentally cursed for the slip and stuffed the small bag next to the other at the bottom of his bag. "Yeah, I uh, guess I just expected it to be different," he shrugged hoping they would buy the lie he was feeding them.

"So what school did you go to over in the states?"

"Salem Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Nico rambled off, vaguely recalling that his cousin had mentioned the place in passing. He was mentally curing his cousin now for not giving him a heads up about this quest. If he wasn't careful they would start figuring out that he wasn't who he said he was. "When are they going to be done with their meeting?" he asked trying to distract the group from asking more about him until he had time to come up with answers and a story.

"Shouldn't take long," Ginnny said. "They had a meeting earlier today.

"Right," Nico muttered. "Do you guys know what they talk about in their meetings?'

"No."

"Not really."

"Voldemort stuff."

Nico looked from face to face and knew that they were lying. He was blacklisted until he could prove that he was trustworthy. Well fine, he could do that. Maybe. Where in Tatarous was Percy when he needed him?

"How did you get in?" Ron asked breaking the tense silence. Hermione stepped on his foot.

"Im sorry?" Nico asked bemused.

"Sirius saw you out on the street with some women…"

"My cousin," Nico interrupted.

"Your cousin," Harry complied. "He said that he saw you step out of the shadows. Lupin said that was Umbrakenisis and Moody explained that it was an advanced form of dark magic."

Nico shifted uncertainly where he stood. How did he answer without seeming evil? He decided that his best story was the truth. There were several reasons; one, he wouldn't have to keep all of his lies straight, two, he could honestly say he never lied if his heritage came out into the open, and three, it would allow him some room for error if he had to use his powers for any reason.

"So your asking if I can perform Umbrakenisis?" Nico asked. The group nodded. "Yes I can."

"You can?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Yes."

"But how? Many dark wizards over the centuries have tried to learn Umbrakenisis and failed," Hermione reasoned.

"I don't know if you can learn it, but I inherited the talent from my father," Nico explained.

"so Lupin was right, it's an inherited magic rather than a learned one, like being a metamorphmagus," Harry observed.

"A metawhata?" Nico asked confused.

"A metamorphmagus is someone who can change their outward appearance to look like someone else. Our friend Tonks is one," Hermione explained.

"Oh."

"So what's up with the black clothes and freaky ring?" Fred asked grinning, obviously trying to break the silence that had fallen on the group.

"Oh, the ring belongs to my father, kind of like a signet," Nico explained and then looked down at his clothes conciously. "As for the clothes, I just like black."

"They make you look really pale," Ginny noted.

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped.

Nico however was laughing. "Actually, I'm just really pale to begin with. I don't get out much. I spend a lot of time in...err...inside."

There was a soft knock at the door and then it was pushed open and the plump woman with red hair appeared. Nico recalled that Dumbledore had referred to her as Molly. "We're all finished up downstairs and dinner is ready," she announced.

There was a chorus of relief from the group as they all filed out of the room. Nico followed, but was stopped by Molly at the door. "I'm Molly Weasley dear, you just let me know if you need anything alright," she offered.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasly," Nico murmured and then followed the group downstairs for dinner. His stomach, at the prospect of having something to eat, began to growl.

document here...


	4. Wednesday

Nico hated Mrs. Weasley. She was the most infuriating woman he had dealt with in his life - not that he had experienced all that many. He supposed anyone else would find her attentions adorable or sweet, but Nico felt smothered. He was used to leading his own life, never really being told what to do by anyone, except perhaps Percy. Mrs. Weasley probably meant well (he kept trying to tell himself that at least) but she was annoying him to no end. Mrs. Weasley has taken it into her head that Nico needed mothering. He was too scrawny to have been fed properly and too rebellious for his own good; "what does he know? He's just a child Arthur," she had whispered to her husband one night. The worst part of Molly Weasley wasn't that she tried to be motherly, it was that she tried to be motherly while looking at him suspiciously when she thought he wouldn't see. Nico knew that she thought, as everyone else did in the house, that Nico was something not good. They walked on toes around him and treated him like a ticking time-bomb. He really didn't mind though, he wasn't much of a social person to begin with and their suspicions kept them from being overly talkative. However, Mrs. Weasley's attitude was giving him whiplash. The other reason he couldn't stand Mrs. Weasley was the amount of cleaning she insisted on doing. Nico didn't think any amount of cleaning could actually clean this place, but she was determined to try and so all the 'kids' in the house got dragged into it too. Nico wasn't a huge cleaner, he kept his cabin tidy and when he wanted any real work done he just summoned the skeleton servants from the underworld, as was his right. He was tempted to do it now, but he didn't think the rest of the house occupants would take kindly to a bunch of Spartans suddenly roaming around considering their views on umbrakenisis.

So when Wednesday finally rolled around Nico was perhaps the happiest person in the house simply because he couldn't wait to get out of it. The Weasleys had this trip planned to go to a place called Diagon Alley. Nico was thrilled to be able to get out of the depressing house. It said a lot that he found the place despondent seeing as he spent most of his life in the underworld with his father, supposedly the darkest place on earth, both emotionally and literally. How wrong the world was. As long as you stuck to Elysium, the underworld was actually really nice, the rest of the place was tinged in a red light from the earths core. The only place that was pitch black, completely devoid of light was Tartarous. Nico shivered at the thought and quickly shied away from thinking anything about the place. He needed a day out in the light. After his short visit to Tartarous he wasn't so keen on dark places. It had taken a lot for him to overcome his fear of the dark so that he could shadow travel again, but being in a dark place to long still made him jittery. His only real concern about this trip was that Harry wasn't going. Harry had an appointment with the Head of the Department for Underage Magic. Maybe he could sneak off somewhere and shadow travel to the ministry to check up on Harry. He quickly thought better of it. He didn't know if he would show up in a crowded room or not, besides he doubted that Voldemort would try and attack him in broad daylight in a place so public.

Nico and Harry got up at the same time, the former being such a light sleeper and an early riser anyway. They didn't say a word to each other, which was fine by Nico he didn't want to talk. He changed in the corner of the room, careful about how he did so that Harry wouldn't see some of the many scars that marred his body from his brief voyage into the underworld. It was enough that they probably heard him whimpering in his sleep. He didn't want their pity. It was over, in the past, and he preferred to leave it there. Nico followed Harry down the stairs in his usual black clothes and slipped into a seat at the table when they came into the kitchen. Everyone was busy giving Harry advice and reassuring him that everything would be fine. Apparently he had used magic outside of school and now he had to go to a hearing where they would decide whether or not to expel him. Nico hoped that he wouldn't be expelled, it would be so much harder to keep an eye on him when he wouldn't be able to guess where he would be. Hermione and Ron came down just as Harry and Arthur Weasley were getting ready to leave. They ate through their breakfast quickly and rushed upstairs to finish getting ready for the day neither saying more than a mumbled "good morning" to him.

Nico waited patiently at the table. Well, as patiently as and ADHD demigod could wait. There was a lot of fidgeting going on, but he didn't complain. Soon enough everyone who was going to Diagon Alley had gathered in the kitchen. "Fred, George, you first," Mrs. Weasly said ushering the two twins toward the fire place. She held out a pot of what looked like some sort of powder and each of them took a hand full.

Fred stepped into the fire place and dropped the dust into the ashes. "Diagon Alley," he said clearly and in a flash of green flame he disappeared. Nico raised wasn't surprise, as he had seen Lou Ellen and some of the other Hecate kids do something very similar. He wasn't certain if he would be able to do it though. As George stepped into the fireplace Nico watched intently as he repeated the process. Ginny followed him and then Ron and Hermione. He was next.

Nico stepped forward and took a handful of the powder trying not to show his nervousness. It would seem odd seeing as this seemed to be an acceptable and common way to travel in the Wizarding World. Maybe he couldn't escape to the ministry, but just maybe he could find a way to travel to the underworld to get some information. He threw the dust on the ground and said, "Diagon Alley." There was a flash of green light as flames licked at his body and then he was in darkness, sort of. It was if the world had gone slightly green and he was zooming through it at an alarming rate. He tried to focus on the darkness to help lead him to where he wanted to go. Almost missing his gate he slid out of a fireplace coughing up ashes and soot. The twins helped him up and dusted him off as best they could.

"That was almost as bad as Harry's first time," Ron muttered. "Haven't you ever flooed before?"

Nico tried to focus on dusting his clothes as he thought of a suitable answer. He shrugged, "I usually just shadow travel everywhere."

"Shadow travel?" Hermione asked.

Nico sighed thankful that he had decided to tell them the truth on this front. "Its a form of Umbrakenisis. All shadows are made from the same substance. Certain people can use them as a passage through the world."

"Oh," Hermione muttered. Fred and George wandered off and began joking around but the rest of them just waited for Mr. and Mrs. Weasly to arrive. When they did the group set off towards a tall crooked building at the end of the alley. As Nico learned from listening to the families conversation this was Gringotts, the wizards bank.

Since Nico already had his money he waited with Hermione as she exchanged her muggle money into wizard coins, while the weasly's went down to their vault. Hermione didn't seem overly thrilled with the arrangement and they waited in silence. Nico leaned up against a pillar of the building trying to ignore all of the hateful and fearful looks he was receiving from the goblins. Being creatures of wealth they knew that he was one to fear as well as hate seeing as his father controlled all wealth beneath the earth, they just didnt know why they feared and hated him. Soon the Weasly's came back up from beneath where the vaults were and led everyone outside.

"Now do you all know what you need to get?" Mrs. Weasly asked. "Nico you have your books already?"

"I just need to get a wand, Mrs. Weasly," Nico murmured.

"Don't you already have one?" Hermione asked.

Nico shrugged, "It broke earlier this summer."

"Hermione, Ron, why don't you show Nico where to go to get a wand," Mrs. Weasly said. "Ginny we need to get you some new robes. Why don't we all meet at Florish and Blotts in an hour."

Nico could tell that Hermione wasn't thrilled with the arrangements as everyone wandered off in their own direction. Ron seemed a bit weary, but didn't really care either way. "So which way do we go?" Nico asked trying to break the awkward silence.

Hermione sighed and turned on her heel leading the way back into the alley. "We need to go to Ollivander's," she said over her shoulder.

Ron and Nico hurried after her. Ron and Hermione led him to one of the most run down shops on the street that had faded letters over the door announcing it as Ollivander's if you could make out what it said. Nico followed the duo through the door and wondered at their tense demeanor. The room was dark, which suited Nico. No one could sneek up on him in the dark. He let the shadows feed him information out of the room. There was a person skulking in the shadows behind one of the shelves. Nico turned towards it.

"Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasly how good to see you in here again," The man said. He had white frazzled hair and eyes that were a disturbing color grey. It was like they were blue and then someone hid them behind a thick cloudy veil. They weren't the pretty silvery grey of his cousins. "You didn't break your wand again did you Ron?" the man asked.

"No, sir," Ron squeaked. Nico rolled his eyes, _coward._

"Nico, needs a wand sir," Hermione announced before the man could conduct anymore pleasantries. Nico really didn't understand what was so scary about the man, but he did understand that there was something very off-putting. However, he seemed kind, if a bit eccentric and he smelled horribly.

"Nico," the man hummed looking at him. "Nico what?"

"Nico di Angelo," Nico said proudly and without a hint of fear.

"Yes, never heard of that name before," Ollivander muttered.

"I'm from the states and my family migrated from Italy," Nico shrugged.

"Makes since," Ollivander nodded. He began talking while a tape measure zoomed around Nico taking measurements. Nico wasn't really certain what it was measuring but he decided it was best not to question it. Finally the tape zoomed back into a drawer and Ollivander began pulling off boxes from different shelves.

"Here try this one," he said pulling a stick out of a dark purple box and handing it to him. Nico held it in his hand and looked at Ollivander expectantly. Was it supposed to do something? "Nope," he said pulling the wand away and handing him another. It went on like that for quiet a while until finally after an hour Nico put a halt to it.

"You have to be one of my toughest customers Mr. Di Angelo," Ollivander said gleefully.

"You keep saying that the wand chooses the wizard," Nico said ignoring Ollivander's comment. "How does it do that exactly?"

"Well mainly the wood from which the wand was made and it's core creates a way for the magic inside a person to be tunneled so that they can use that magic. The theory is, that the core and the wood have match the magical core of whoever wields the wand."

Nico smacked his forehead as he leaned against the counter. "And just what exactly have I been using?"

"Pine, elder, birch, driftwood, oak, dragon heart string, eagle, phoenix," Ollivander ranted off.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything made of White Poplar would you?" Nico growled out trying not to get impatient with the wand-maker. It's not as if the man knew that he was the son of Hades and that items from the realms of his uncles, aunts, or cousins wouldn't work with him.

"Why would you suggest Poplar?" Ollivander asked curiously.

"My last wand was made of White Poplar," Nico lied.

"Really? Its very rare. Poplar is a dangerous wood, like elder," Ollivander explained nervously. "I only have one. Its been around for a long time."

"Let's try it," Nico said.

"I'm not certain," Ollivander whimpered. "Perhaps we could keep trying these others."

"We've tried it your way," Nico grumbled. "Now lets just try it my way."

Ollivander didn't seem thrilled when he went back and fetched the wand and Nico couldn't blame him. Witches and Wizards seemed to be a superstitious lot and even though they may not remember why they probably associated Poplar with dark magic and evil wizards. Ollivander hesitantly put a white box on the counter and lifted the lid to reveal the greyish hue of the Poplar wood. "White Poplar and thestral hair, ten inches, inflexible," he said softly as he gingerly handed Nico the wand.

Nico took hold of the wand and immediately felt power ripple through him as though he had just entered the underworld. The room's temperature dropped making the candles flicker. The shadows darkened and Nico could feel them reaching toward him like they did when he was in his fathers kingdom.

"I think this will do," Nico smiled at Ollivander.

The man nodded, "that will be ten sickles Mr. Di Angelo."

Nico handed over the coins and tried to suppress a grimace as Ollivander tried to stay as far from him as possible as Nico paid. He led the way out of the store, now anxious to leave it. "That was so odd," Hermione muttered as they ambled up the street.

"What?" Nico asked curiously. He knew enough to know that his wand choosing was unusual to say the least, but he was wanted to know how exactly so he could have a viable reason if anyone chose to question him about it.

"How your wand made the room go cold," Hermione elaborated. "And why is Poplar and Elder considered dangerous?"

"Well, I don't know about dangerous, but getting an elder wand has always been considered unlucky," Ron shrugged.

"Why?" Hermione questioned.

"Cause of the Tale of the Three Brothers. Three brothers cheated death out of their souls. Death congratulated them on their triumph and granted them a gift. The eldest asked for the most powerful wand, one that could defeat any other wizard and so the first elder wand was created," Ron explained. Nico couldn't help it and burst out laughing. He had heard this story before from his father, but that wasn't how Hades had told it.

"What about Poplar?" Hermione asked ignoring Nico's outburst, putting it down to disbelief.

"I don't know," Ron shrugged.

"I do," Nico smirked. "It's because the White Poplar tree has always been the symbolic tree of the underworld."

"Why would a wand so closely tied with death come in a white box, I would have expected black," Hermione said.

Nico rolled his eyes at her response. "Why do people immediately think hell, when someone speaks of death?" he muttered.

"I guess because of Christianity's influence," Hermione said thoughtfully. "People are supposed to be 'living' if they go to heaven. Hell and death have just sort of been grouped together."

"Makes since I guess," Nico murmured after a moment.

"So then why the white box?" Hermione asked him.

"White Poplar was bred in the Elysian fields, a representation of Hades love for the Nymph Leuce," Nico explained.

"What are the Elysian fields and who in Merlin is Hades?" Ron demanded.

Nico tried not to glare at Ron, but his voice came out sharp as he replied, "Lord Hades is the God of the Dead and King of the Underworld. The Elysian Fields are where Heroes go when they die. The Ancient Greeks version of Heaven, except their version didn't divide Heaven and Hell. They existed in the same place. The leaves from the White Poplar used to be what Heroes would decorate themselves with on a successful return from the underworld, a representation of their struggles in both life and death."

"You know a lot about Greek Mythology," Hermione observed.

Nico barely kept himself from flinching at the word mythology. "Yeah, my dad's side of the family is Greek. We've all heard the stories."

Florish and Blotts came into view preventing Hermione from asking anymore questions which Nico was thankful for. The less he spoke of his family the better. Mrs. Weasley was pacing in front of the shop and when she saw them she nearly fainted in relief.

"Thank goodness your alright," she said as she charged them and enveloped them in a bone crushing hug.

"Can't breath, mom," Ron muttered.

"Where on Earth HAVE YOU BEEN?" she cried. As Nico had learned from experience, Mrs. Weasly had an overwhelming voice when she was distressed or angry.

"Relax mom, Nico just took forever getting a wand," Ron mumbled.

"Oh, well then," she huffed trying to gain control of her frazzled nerves. "Come along then, we still need to get your books."

Nico followed her into the shop with Hermione and Ron on his tail. The Weasly's and Hermione quickly collected their books and with a last stop at a store called Madame Malkin's to pick up Ginny's uniform they left the Alley all together. In truth Nico was a little disappointed that he didn't get to spend more time on the Wizarding street. There had been several shops that had promised to be interesting and he swore that he would visit them if he ever got the chance to return to the street. He also was a little upset that he hadn't gotten the opportunity to visit the underworld and pick the brains from a few dead wizard friends. Maybe later he good find an opportunity to IM his cousin Lou Ellen and ask her about the Wizarding world.


	5. Pinky, Snort, and Porky

Nico wasn't exactly sure what he had been expecting, therefore he really didn't know what to think now that he was here. The Order had escorted him, Harry, Ron, and Hermione along with Fred, George, and Ginny to the train station where he was now being told to walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Apparently (though Nico did not find it surprising) the Hogwarts express was on the other side. Nico felt, on one hand, that this was very anti-climatic, for with all of the emphasis everyone had put on actually getting to Hogwarts, Nico had been expecting something, well, more magical than an old nineteenth century steam engine train. On the other hand, he was finding it pretty impressive that they were able to hide an old steam engine train in the middle of a modern day railroad station with nothing more than a wall.

"So I just run straight at the wall and I'll go straight through it?" Nico asked skeptically to make certain. He knew it was possible to enchant things so that you could hide them from mortal eyes. The rest of the world thought that the camp he lived at was a strawberry farm and there was a whole valley in California that mortals just sort of skated right around not even realizing that it was there. This, however, was the first time he had ever seen something hidden by a wall.

"Yes," Some of the Order members barked back.

Nico scowled at them and then huffed as he turned to make his way through the wall. "Excuse me for wanting to make sure, it's not like if your wrong I won't crack my head open because the walls made of padding," Nico muttered under his breath. He took a deep breath and ran toward the wall, trying not to allow his instincts to override him and shadow travel to where ever this other place was. Nico closed his eyes tight as he got closer, a few more strides and he would hit the wall, but he felt nothing. Nico blinked as he came to a stop and then looked behind him to see an archway rather than a solid piece of building. He blinked again and looked back to the fire engine red train. Smoke billowed out of the stacks and filled the inside of the station with a thick fog. Nico glared at it. Until now, he really hadn't taken anyone seriously when they said the train was from the nineteenth century, but he shouldn't have held out hope that they were jesting and that the train was a nice bullet train from the twenty-first century. He should have known better. How could it possibly be so difficult for the wizarding world to evolve? Nico really didn't understand some of the comments he had been hearing back at headquarters where it concerned a muggles ability to get along with out magic. How shocked the wizarding world would be to discover that the muggle world was far more efficient and well off than their own and they did it without magic?

"What do you think?" Harry asked Nico as he stepped up next to him. He sounded wistful and happy.

Nico turned his glare on him, "I really miss the twenty-first century."

"Isn't the American Wizarding world like this?" Hermione questioned curiously.

"What is your point?" Nico growled.

Unable to find a suitable answer the trio simply shrugged as they exchanged not-so-covert glances. A bark of impatience from one of the Order members had them hurrying to the train to pack up their belongings. Quickly they exchanged good-byes with their family and friends and then the trio led Nico onto the train just as the last warning whistle blew. A moment later the train began it's slow pull into acceleration as their group tried to find a compartment to sit in.

"I like the twenty-first century," Nico sulked going back to their earlier discussion as they moved down the corridor avoiding excited first-years. "It's advanced, useful, interesting. When was the last time the Wizarding world actually made any sort of advancement?"

"Oh, look we got ourselves another mudblood," someone sneered from behind him.

Nico turned to gaze curiously at the pompous boy who had spoken. He had ferret like features - pointy nose, small lips. He was as pale as he was blond, his skin colored only by the blood beneath the surface. Next to him stood two fat meaty boys who's glares may make weaker men cower, but simply made Nico want to chuckle at, what he considered, a pitiful attempt.

"Are we giving out Nicknames?" Nico asked as innocently as he could. He had no idea what a mudblood was, but it sounded insulting. The tense postures of Harry, Ron and Hermione warned him that this guy was not a friend of theirs. A thin smile broke out on his face that did not meet his eyes. He hated bullies. He pointed at the biggest boy. "I think you should be Porky, he can be Snort, and you can be...hmmm…" Nico tapped at his chin as if he was truly perplexed over the matter.

"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I'm sure you've heard of me," the boy said pompously.

"Sorry I don't know anyone who has the same first name as their last name," Nico said as he bit back a smirk. He was the picture of naivete, and Nico felt that he was doing an excellent job at playing the roll. "Did your parents forget that you already had the name Malfoy or did they think you wouldn't be able to remember it so they gave you the name twice?"

"My first name is Draco," he snapped.

"Oh, really?" Nico asked with a frown, cutting him off before he could say anymore. "What exactly were your parents thinking when they named you that? You don't resemble a dragon at all. More like a ferret or a rat, but a dragon?"Nico scoffed. "Are they hoping you'll die at the hands of a hero like your namesake? If I were you, I would get it changed as soon as possible. I mean if I had heard your name first and then saw you, I would be really disappointed, thinking I was going to meet this really dangerous guy and I end up with, well, you. I…"

"Shut up!" Malfoy snapped interrupting Nico's monologue. Nico didn't mind. He had gotten what he wanted - Malfoy on defense. A pink tinge colored Malfoy's cheeks which only helped to inspire Nico more and he snapped his fingers as if a light bulb had just turned on in his mind.

"I got it! You'll be Pinky!" He cried pointing at Malfoy and smiling as if he were a real genius. "Snort, Porky, and Pinky. Two pigs and a piglet! So much better than Draco I have to say," Nico grinned. The group stared at him incredulously the slytherins resembling fish. Nico took the silence as an opportunity, "Well we should get to our compartment. It was a real honor meeting the Hogwarts Hogs in person. Maybe next time I can get your autograph?" He suggested with a wave as he pushed, Ron, Harry, and Hermione down the corridor.

"My father will hear about this," Malfoy yelled after him.

Nico bit back a chuckle as he spoke just loud enough for Malfoy to hear as he pretended to speak to himself. "What sort of dragon hides behind their daddy? I think dragons just dropped off the dangerous species list."

The trio didn't even wait until they were on the next passenger car before they broke down into a fit of laughter. They didn't stop until they found their own compartment and Nico was more than happy to join them. Which surprised him as he didn't find many things funny.

"That was by far the strangest insulting I've ever heard. Snort, Porky and Pinky," Ron laughed. "I think I'll actually call them that from now on. The amazing bouncing ferret is too long."

"The amazing bouncing ferret?" Nico choked.

"Last year mad-eye moody, or well, the guy that pretended to be him turned Draco into a ferret when he called Hermione a well you heard it earlier. Anyway he levitated him and then made him bounce all over the place before shoving him down Crabbe's pants." Harry smirked.

"Yeah, what does Mudblood mean anyway?" Nico asked curiously.

"It's a derrogatory term referring to muggle-borns," Hermione explained softly. The light joyful atmosphere seemed to dissapate with her words. "Haven't you ever heard the term before in America?"

"Ah, no, but then I'm not a very social person. I tend to keep to myself," Nico shrugged.

"Oh, well, Malfoy is from a pureblood family and they think very highly of themselves. They think they shouldn't allow muggle-borns into Hogwarts and that we are something less because our family didn't pass down the magic."

Nico snorted, and then, unable to hold it in, laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "That's the biggest load of pegasus shit I've ever heard of."

The trio exchanged surprised looks. "What do you mean?"

"Well as a pureblood you inherit your magic from your parents, but as a muggle-born you just have it. You have to wonder where they get their magic if neither parent possesed any magic themselves, right?" Nico began.

"Some think that they come from a long line of squibs," Ron mumbled.

Nico had no idea what a squib was, but he went with it. "I suppose it's possible," he hedged. "But really I'm more inclined to believe that they get their magic straight from the source. Wherever magic began, that's where muggle-borns come by their gift."

"I don't follow you," Hermione frowned.

"Well in Greek Mythology there was a Goddess by the name of Hecate. She was the Goddess of Magic. Now her mortal children, for example Circe, could perform magic above and beyond any kind of magic any others could perform, but her decendants could only perform magic as any other mortal could, though some did exceed in their abilities they were never as powerful as her actual children. Magic was a blessing and as such could be passed down from generation to generation. Now Hecate's legacies were not the only one's capable of performing magic, but she also blessed mortals who worshipped her and whom she favored. I'm just using this as metaphorical analogy," Nico explained and then frowned at the trio's blank stares and sighed. "Another way of looking at it. Malfoy got hand-me-down magic and Hermione got new magic. It doesn't necessarily make her more powerful, but it makes her magic more pure. At least that is how I have always thought of it."

The trio looked at each other and then back at Nico who shrugged. He had no idea how else to explain what he was trying to say without telling them the full blown truth. "It kind of makes a twisted sort of sense," Harry offered.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure I like the idea of having hand-me-down magic," Ron grumbled with an apologetic glance at Hermione.

Hermione sighed, "It's a nice thought, Nico, but I don't think that's really how magic works. More likely I'm a decendant from a long line of squibs."

Nico shrugged and then reached up to the storage shelf and tugged down his bag. He reached in and pulled out a book that had a black cover with a picture of the Peruvian Man on the front. Across the top in ancient greek letters formed the title.

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked him. "I don't recognize the language on the cover- greek, maybe?"

"It's Ancient Greek," Nico explained as he found his place in the book. "Everyone in my family learns to speak and read it. The book is called The Body After Death: The Science of Decomposition." Nico, already having his nose in his book, didn't see the uneasy and suspicious glances that the trio exchanged.


	6. Sorting Messes

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat shouted. "Put HIM in Slytherin!"

Nico stared incredulously at the talking hat. He had watched all of the first years get sorted into their houses before Headmaster Dumbledore announced that their would be an exchange student this year. Once he had finished his announcement a woman, Professor McGonagall as she was introduced, had called him up to the podium and waited for him to sit down. He had noted while watching the other sortings that the hat sometimes made quick work of placing a student, barely touching their heads before announcing their house, and with other students the hat could be on their head for an indeterminate amount of time. Until now, however, the hat had always made it to the persons head before announcing a house. Of course, Nico had to be the one to break the tradition. There was a loud murmur of voices as the students began to talk to each other over the hat's odd behavior. Nico, beginning to sense that this situation was slowly getting worse, continued to gape at the hat still in Professor McGonagall's hand. The one that had yet to make it within a foot of Nico's head. The murmuring was getting louder and slowly Nico came out of his surprise to hiss at the hat in hushed tones.

"Perhaps, if you actually sat on my head, hat, you would feel differently."

"No, no, I'm certain," the Hat insisted. "Your a Slytherin."

"Please, we wouldn't want to sort a student into the wrong house," Dumbledore murmured quietly from his spot at the head table. "Best make certain."

"I won't change my mind," the Hat insisted as McGonagall sat him on Nico's head.

"Awe, yes, just as I thought - A Son of Hades," the Hat hissed. "I can sense a demigod from several meters and you! - well you have the look of your siblings."

"Just get on with it Hat," Nico growled quietly. Remus Lupin had kindly explained to Nico one night at the Order Headquarters how the house system worked at Hogwarts. There was Slytherin House, for the cunning and ambitious (Remus also included that the house had a reputation for being supporters of the Pureblood Supremacy Movement even though the house claimed several half-bloods). There was Hufflepuff House, for the hard-working, the Ravenclaw's, for the intelligent, and Gryffindor, for the brave and loyal (Remus also claimed it to be the best house, though he admitted to being bias). Remus had asked him which house he would like to be in, given what he now knew? Nico had frowned and then said that each attribute was equally important and that he couldn't decide based on that alone. He supposed if he was being sorted according to how he could improve he would choose either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw as he was a bit lazy and there was always more to learn. Remus seemed to be surprised by his answer and Nico sensed that he had expected a different one, though he hadn't known at the time what the answer could have been. Now, however, he understood. Remus had suspected that he would be placed in Slytherin, and would therefore naturally be drawn to that house because of what it valued. However, Nico didn't value cunning or ambition; he valued other things, like family and friends and a strong sense of morals.

"You're a Slytherin, just as I suspected, just like all of your siblings have been." Nico wasn't certain if he imagined the sneer in the hats voice or not. Either way he didn't care for the hat's attitude towards him.

"I'm nothing like my siblings," Nico snapped, having lost his patients. "You sort me on my own merits Hat or I'll give you to Cerberus as a chew toy."

"Fine, whatever his lordship wishes," the hat said scornfully. Nico bit back a biting remark and instead sat impatiently as the hat went about 'Sorting' him. "Cunning, a Slytherin trait, common in Hades' spawn. Courage, a strange trait for you and your siblings, but considering the trials you've been through, not surprising. Your loyal, now that is surprising. You would go to great lengths for those who you consider worthy. "

"Do you sort people based on their strongest attributes?" Nico queried truly curious as to how this whole process actually worked.

"Of course," the Hat murmured absently.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever hear of," Nico scoffed truly annoyed now. "Have you ever heard the term 'enabling' Hat? Perhaps my siblings might have been better off not going into Slytherin precisely because they were perfect candidates for the house. Had they been sorted elsewhere they might have learned to value something other than power and the world would have been better for it! What is loyalty without courage? What is courage without cunning? What is cunning without Wisdom? And what use is Wisdom without hard-work?" Nico took a deep breath and let it out. He hated being compared to his elder siblings. Some of them weren't so bad, but the majority of them could be traced through history; Adolf Hitler for example. He hated the expectations that came with being the son of Hades. One of his worst fears was that he would turn out like his older brothers and sisters. Nico had chosen a different path a long time ago, and although he sometimes found it hard to follow, he intended to keep following it. He wasn't going to make it harder on himself by allowing himself to be put in a situation where he could slip into the stereotypical role as a son of Hades. He owed to much to Percy and his sisters to do that. He had promised them he wouldn't go down that route. "Look Hat, I don't know if I changed your mind, but look at it this way. We both know I'm not a real wizard. I'm here for one reason - to protect Harry Potter. I can't do that if I'm in Slytherin."

Silence followed his last statement and Nico could almost sense the hat thinking over what he had said. "Alright, I still think you would be better off in Slytherin, but you make a valid point." The hat sighed, almost mournfully and then with a raised voice it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Nico yanked the hat off his head before it had finished speaking and handed it over to Professor McGonagall before it could change it's mind again. Thankful that the ordeal was over he hurried down to the cheering table adorned in red and gold. The rest of the Hall followed his progress in confusion and the Slytherin's looked absolutely horrified that a Gryffindor had almost been placed in their house. Nico squeezed into a spot next to Fred and George Weasley, who introduced him to their friend Lee Jordan before Professor Dumbledore called for the attention of the students. He started off by welcoming them back and then introducing the new teachers; a Miss. Umbridge and a Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. Professor Dumbledore was moving on to Quiditch try-outs when he was interrupted by a squeak. Several squeaks to be precise. They seemed to emanate from Miss. Umbridge. Everyone stared at her, and Nico got the impression that no one had ever dared to interrupt Professor Dumbledore before. The woman moved out from behind the head table and began to give a long winded speech that Nico normally would have tuned out, but something Harry had said caught his attention. Harry had leaned across the table to n Hermione who was only two seats away from him and told her that Miss. Umbridge had been at his trial. She was the senior undersecretary or some such thing to the Minister of Magic. Nico had snapped to attention and began to pay very close attention. What he heard left him disgusted.

The woman was giving a poorly disguised speech on pureblood supremacy. She talked about how there were certain forms of magic that shouldn't be allowed, let alone taught in schools and that they should 'prune' their ways so as to make a better society. Nico rolled his eyes, thinking how her speech sounded eerily familiar to something his brother Adolf Hitler would have said in his speeches. The underline meaning was clear - Purebloods were better and anything less than that was unhealthy for the wizarding society. No one clapped when she was finished. Some had fallen asleep, others were too offended at having been talked down to like they were toddlers, and the rest who had understood the implications in her speech stared at her furiously.

Professor Dumbledore made a few more announcements then clapped his hands and Nico watched as food suddenly appeared on the table. He happily dug in. He watched as Hermione explained quietly why Miss. Umbridge was at the school and what the ministry was doing to Harry and Ron. As Nico ate the food he had piled up on his plate he thought hard about what the Ministry's ultimate goal was at Hogwarts. Miss. Umbridge's speech made no sense when her power within the school was that of a lowly teacher. How could she possibly implement her ideas into the system without the backing of the Headmaster? The epiphany came so quickly to Nico that he froze, his hand halfway to his mouth, as the theory formed in his head. Her speech didn't make any sense if she were just a teacher, but if she were to suddenly find herself within a position of power in Hogwarts her silly little speech suddenly becomes a big problem. Nico's gaze snapped to where the Headmaster sat silently exchanging words with an irate Professor McGonagall. Which position was Miss. Umbridge after? His gaze worked it's way down the line of teachers until it landed on the woman clad almost entirely in pink. One look at her and Nico understood. She was after the Headmaster's position and the ministry wasn't going to go after a quiet turn-over of power. Nope they wanted blood and lot's of it. By the time the Ministry was done, Professor Albus Dumbledore would be a crazy teacher who would have to be admitted into Saint Mongo's Mental Health Center.

Nico swore under his breath and turned his attention back to Professor Dumbledore. Did he know what the Ministry was planning? After a minute of thinking it over Nico decided that he did. In the short time he had been in the Headmaster's company at Grimmuald Place Nico had sensed that he was a man that allowed little to slip by him. Nico turned back to his food and pondered the new information he had. He was without doubt that the Professor had his own plans to counter the ministry's games, but Nico wasn't certain how much leverage he had when his reputation was riding on whether or not Lord Voldemort was alive. He had very little power Nico decided, which meant that the man needed to create some leverage of his own. Nico decided that at the first opportunity he would contact Annabeth and relay the situation to her. As a strategist she would know the best way to counteract the ministry's plan, but until then he needed something that could begin as soon as possible.

Nico glanced up at the new teacher and grimaced at the amount of pink she was wearing. He wished she would tone it down with a color that wasn't so loud and obnoxious. Even Aphrodite wouldn't wear that amount of pink. The only redeeming thing she wore was an atrocious hairband that resembled a fly, but to his relief the color of the hair bow was black. BLACK! - That was it! He smirked at the teacher and then turned to the Weasley twins.

"I hear you guys are the best pranksters in the school," Nico grinned.

"No, idea where you could possibly have heard that from," Fred said shaking his head.

"We're perfect angels, we are," George nodded his head.

"Oh, that's too bad," Nico said solemnly. "I had this great idea for a prank, guess I'll have to do it on my own, or well, maybe I can find someone else to do it with. It does work better with a partner." Nico pretended to look around the Great Hall for a candidate and ignored the spluttering and gaping from the twins.

"Hogwarts Pranksters at your service," George and Fred announced finally.

Nico frowned at them, "But I thought you said…"

"Of course we said," George smirked.

"We always say," Fred shrugged.

"But we aren't," They finished together in a similarly annoying way to the Stole brother's at camp.

Nico grinned and leaned closer to them. "How do you feel about playing pranks on teachers?"

George laughed, "those are the best."

"Never fails to get a reaction," Fred agreed.

"Good, because I have very special plans for our guest teacher from the ministry," Nico smirked.

The twins exchanged mischievous grins and the trio went back to their meal as if nothing peculiar was going on. To the outside eye, nothing unusual had happened, but to the skilled prankster it was obvious. The trio had agreed on a meeting and a time and soon enough all hell was going to break loose.

AN

So I re-read my first six chapters as some things were pointed out to me that I hadn't yet addressed. I will continue to write new chapters for this story because I am truly enjoying writing this, but if you have read this story from front to back, you may want to re-read it on the next update. As I will be changing a few minor things. For example I realized the other day that Ron and Hermione did not sit with Harry on the train their fifth year, but sat with the Prefects and that Harry had instead sat with Neville and Luna. If you don't feel like re-reading what I have already written don't worry about it. Nothing I am planning on changing will change the dynamics of the story and you will still be able to follow along!

Please review! Good or bad I love feedback and I take your opinions and ideas seriously whether or not I choose to use them:)

Thank you to everyone who has chosen to save my story, I truly hope that it is living up to your expectations!


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